


by my side

by lovelight (Delenaley)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Flash Fic, M/M, Red String of Fate, Yixing's Birthday Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26891356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delenaley/pseuds/lovelight
Summary: “You’re finally awake,” the angel says, a dimpled smile gracing his face. “We can finally break free.”That’s when Chanyeol notices the red thread wrapped tightly around their limbs.“Oh,” he replies eloquently. The angel chuckles.This is Chanyeol’s fated.
Relationships: Park Chanyeol/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay
Comments: 14
Kudos: 30
Collections: Challenge #8 — Tales of the Past





	by my side

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Yixing's [玉](https://open.spotify.com/track/453UPGftBZk4BbSwUQTCva?si=dY3yEBFLTDyq7MT-hRxHqQ). Happy 29th Birthday King 💖

The first thing Chanyeol registers when he wakes, is the weight on top of his body, and the fact that the only thing that can move is his head. His forehead however, does hurt. Aching like it's been hit with a dull weapon. Chanyeol hopes he hadn’t done anything remotely endangering, or got knocked out during sword practice again.

But that’s impossible—

Chanyeol opens his eyes, and comes face to face with an angel.

Perhaps he has really died this time.

“You’re finally awake,” the angel says, a dimpled smile gracing his face. “We can finally break free.”

That’s when Chanyeol notices the red thread wrapped tightly around their limbs.

 _“Oh,"_ he replies eloquently. The angel chuckles.

This is Chanyeol’s fated.

✧

It takes them several hours to fully break free. When Chanyeol woke, the sky was decked in deep hues of orange and yellow, the beginning of an afternoon’s end. It is now a little past sunset. 

They’re sitting across each other on the grass, still in the same forest clearing they woke up in. The thread hanging loosely between them, shrinking to a more manageable size now that they’re close. Chanyeol stares at it, awestruck. The red was unlike any other red he’s ever seen, almost shining with traces of gold—tied to his little finger, connecting the two of them, circled around his fated’s ankles.

The man in front of him is draped in white silk robes embroidered with lotus patterns on the sleeves, the quality showing his visibly wealthy status. Long black hair cascades down his back, the top of his head decorated with an elaborate hairpiece, slightly askew after their earlier tussling. He was, strangely, barefoot.

Nevertheless, Chanyeol refuses to believe a man this beautiful is his destined. This man could tell him that he was an immortal descended from the heavens, and Chanyeol would believe him.

Chanyeol looks down at himself, still dressed in his travelling outfit, silently grateful that out of the two of them he was the one that got his robes dirtied. Even with a prince guard’s salary, he doesn’t think he can afford to compensate for the other man’s robes. 

“Your, uh—” Chanyeol starts, the man’s head snaps up, looking at him expectantly. “You’re barefoot.” He points out rather uselessly.

To his delight, the man smiles again, dimples appearing on his cheeks. 

“I was in my personal garden when the thread appeared, and decided to follow it. I did not realize it would take me to the forest,” he explains, voice as smooth as the silk covering him.

Chanyeol hums. He had been wandering around near the guest pavilion when the thread appeared. Over the moon with being so close to his destined, he blindly followed the thread and hadn’t noticed where he’s going, tripping over the roots and consequently tumbling off the hills.

Then he woke up with an angel on his chest.

“I saw you fall,” he continues, giggling. Chanyeol’s ears are burning. “The thread dragged me down before I could do anything. So before I knew it, we were tangled.” He pauses, looking away. Chanyeol detects the shyness in his voice when he speaks next, “I could not wake you, so I decided to lay there on your chest. I apologize.”

“It’s nothing—It’s fine!” Chanyeol rushes to assure him. 

His fated nods. “Then, may I have your name?”

Now this, he is familiar with. Ingrained deep inside his bones, ever since he was a child being introduced to Jongdae, making an oath that he will serve him until the day he dies. 

Chanyeol stands up and bows, back straight. “Park Chanyeol. Part of His Highness, Third Prince Jongdae’s personal entourage.” 

There will be no use concealing his identity, this person is most likely here for the same festivities, anyway. 

“Rise,” the man commands, but it was gentle. Chanyeol does as said, watching as the man stands and noticing the way he favors one leg over the other. Something tug at his heartstrings. 

“Zhang Yixing.” The man bows.

Chanyeol feels his blood run cold. Eyes wide, he drops to his knees. “Your Highness!”

He suspected nobility, probably a visiting lord or the son of one. Not _the_ Crown Prince that they specifically came here for, the exact person that the birthday festivities is held on behalf of.

There are hands on his shoulders, tugging him up. “Please, you are my fated. I cannot have you do this.” The prince sounded alarmed.

Chanyeol gulps. Fated. How is he supposed to match for a Crown Prince? He is a servant’s son, lucky to be appointed and raised as a personal guard.

When Chanyeol stands, something blasts in the darkening sky. Fireworks, in the form of a lotus. 

“Ah,” The prince says, now standing beside him. His dark eyes illuminated by the sudden burst of light. “It has started. We should get back.”

Right. It would cause a ruckus if His Highness isn’t there for his own birthday festivities.

Chanyeol crouches down in front of his fated, offering his back. “His Highness is barefoot, I cannot let him walk carelessly in the forest.”

“I was doing fine earlier,” Zhang Yixing chuckles, but Chanyeol feels him settle on his back nonetheless. “Thank you, Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol, in the middle of rising, nearly stumbles. He never knew his name could sound that _nice._ The prince’s arms circling around his neck doesn’t do much to help, either. 

“Would it be okay for me to provide you a seat near my own, once we arrive?” He murmurs, lips faintly touching Chanyeol’s shoulder. 

Heart thudding in his chest, Chanyeol answers, “If His Highness does not mind.”

“Never,” The prince replies with the conviction of someone who didn’t just meet him a few hours ago. “And Chanyeol?”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Please, call me by my name.”

“Yes… Yixing.”

Chanyeol feels Yixing smile into his shoulder. The thread, hanging between his little finger and Yixing's ankle, seemed to glow brighter.

He tightens his grip and marches on, heart full.

✧

**Author's Note:**

> pcy, freaking out over courting a crown prince: hey jongdae i've saved ur life countless times it's time for u to pay me back. forfeit all ur riches to me.  
> —  
> From what I have gathered, in Korean beliefs the thread is tied around the little finger, meanwhile in China it is around the ankles. That is why they differ hehe. I hope this is satisfactory. Thank you to the mods for all your hard work 💕 Talk to me on [twt!!](http://twitter.com/layverse)✨


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